


Mile High Club

by airebellah



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: (at times), Age Difference, Consensual Underage Sex, Crying, Developing Relationship, Embarrassment, First Time, Hand Jobs, Insecurity, Love Confessions, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Inexperience, Underage Drinking, Voyeurism, peter joins the mile high club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 06:46:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airebellah/pseuds/airebellah
Summary: “I’m very smart. Some might even say a genius, no?”“Y-yeah!” Peter agreed. “Of course, Mr. Stark, you’re brilliant and-”“So if I say you did a fucking amazing job over in Berlin, and you deserve this-” Tony paused as his hand slipped into Peter’s boxers and wrapped around his cock. The boy audibly choked, hands flying to the armrests, unsure of what to do as Tony pulled his cock out into the open air. “Shouldn’t you just trust me?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a request on tumblr by spade_storm696, it's kind of blown up into a loosely-connected series of fics mostly involving semi-public sex. At least 5 chapters atm, though that number will probably go up!

On the flight back to Germany, Peter was hyper-aware of Tony’s presence on the jet. His camcorder was forgotten in his bag, and he tried to keep his nerves under control. It would probably look pathetic, for Spider-Man to be afraid of flying. He couldn’t quite contain his anxious finger-tapping against the cream-coloured chair, nor the scrape of his shoes against the carpeted floor.

“Hey, kid.”

Peter’s limbs froze as his head shot up. Tony sauntered over to the seat across from him before plopping down with a sigh. He had a glass of dark alcohol in one hand. “How are you feeling?”

“F-Fine,” Peter said. “Uh, yeah. Good. No, I’m great, actually.”

Tony’s brow raised, pulling at the bruised skin lining his eye. “Wow. That’s a lot of adjectives.”

Peter’s shoulders hunched up as he looked down at his lap in embarrassment. Then there was a hand in his line of sight, a hand which landed just about his knee and squeezed.

“You know, Happy told me you’re a nervous flyer,” Tony revealed.

“Oh, man,” Peter groaned, trying to send a glare at Happy, who sat somewhere behind him. He couldn’t see over the top of the seat.

“It’s okay, Pete, nothing to be ashamed of.” His hand dragged up along Peter’s thigh, nearly giving the teen whiplash as his head swung back around. He wasn’t just imagining things -- there was Tony’s hand, hot even through his jeans, large enough to swallow up the expanse of his leg. A thumb rubbing circles into the boy’s inner thigh as fingers lightly dug into the top of his leg.

Tony was now leaning across the empty space between them, barely resting on the edge of his seat. “I wanted to show my appreciation, if you will. For coming.”

Peter could feel his throat dry up. He licked his lips, but his mouth felt like a desert. “Uh, sir?” he squeaked. “I-I don’t think that that’s, um. You said there was money, right? For the-the grant?”

Tony grinned lopsidedly, his teeth glimmering dangerously between his stretched lips. “Of course. Already taken care of. How about I take care of you, hmm?”

Just as he hummed, Tony’s hand slid all the way up Peter’s thigh and skidded over the boy’s crotch. Peter’s hips jerked in response, his cock twitching into the warm, firm heat suddenly covering it.

All he managed was a breathing, “Sir,” as his head knocked against the seat and his eyes shut. Tony rubbed more purposefully, insistently. Peter had no idea what he was supposed to do, what was the normal response to something like this?

Then he heard a shuffle of clothes followed by twin thumps, and Peter’s eyes flew open.  _ Oh. Oh, no- _

He had opened his eyes to Tony Stark kneeling on the carpeted floor between Peter’s legs.

“Mr. Stark?” he asked hoarsely.

“I’m very smart,” was the reply he got as Tony popped open the button above Peter’s fly. “Some might even say a genius, no?”

“Y-yeah!” Peter agreed. “Of course, Mr. Stark, you’re brilliant and-”

“So if I say you did a fucking amazing job over in Berlin, and you deserve  _ this-” _ Tony paused as his hand slipped into Peter’s boxers and wrapped around his cock. The boy audibly choked, hands flying to the armrests, unsure of what to do as Tony pulled his cock out into the open air. “Shouldn’t you just trust me?”

Tony’s grip loosened, leaving Peter’s dick to bob between them as he stared up at the teen, waiting. Peter’s mouth opened and shut as he tried to comprehend how he had gone from a nobody-teen from Queen’s, who happened to have a secret, superhero alter-ego, to sitting on a private jet with Tony Stark between his legs, offering -- well, Peter wasn’t exactly sure  _ what _ he was offering, but it could only be amazing.

It was a no-brainer, right?

_ Right,  _ Peter decided. He gave Tony a nod. The man’s head ducked down without hesitation, and suddenly Tony Stark’s  _ mouth _ was covering Peter’s  _ dick. _

“Oh, f-fuck,” he stammered. “Shit. Sorry, I mean -- crap.”

His fingers dug into the armrest, limbs shaking from the effort to stay still as Tony’s head bobbed up and down; the man took him all the way to the base with ease, and then Peter realized that Tony had had so many lovers, they were probably all so much bigger than Peter, was he smaller than average? How could he ever let Tony’s perfect mouth even  _ touch _ him, he was so pathetic -

“Stop thinking, kid,” Tony grunted as he pulled off, hand wrapping around Peter’s cock and using the saliva to pump. “You’re going to break the chair.”   
“Huh?” Peter said dumbly. Then his ears picked up on a low groaning noise, and he realized his fingers had sliced through the leather and were currently digging into the wood beneath.

Then Tony was back to swallowing him  _ whole, _ and Peter groaned raggedly, fingers digging into his palm so tightly his arms shook. One of the man’s arms lifted, grabbing Peter’s wrist and placing the teen’s fist on his head.

“Oh my God,” Peter whispered as he unfurled his fingers, only to sink them into Tony’s hair. He gave an experimental tug, urging Tony forward as the man sucked him down. He was quite sure Tony gave a nod of encouragement, though it was hard to tell with the man’s nose pressed against his pelvis. He let his second hand join, alternately running through and tugging on Tony’s silken hair, and soon his hips were canting up into the man’s face. He couldn’t help it; Tony’s mouth was so warm and wet, like nothing Peter had ever felt before, and then his leg was lifting over Tony’s shoulder, heel pressing into the man’s back.

“Oh, oh, Mr. Stark, I-” Peter broke off with a cry. He could feel an orgasm building, his back and pelvic muscles beginning to contract.

“If I have to listen,” Happy’s voice cut across the jet. “To this fucking kid come down your throat, Tony, I swear to God-”

Peter yelped, hands and leg dropping immediately. The heat that had been building in him was doused, hell, it was  _ drowned in a monsoon,  _ and replaced with a burning mix of horror and shame.

Tony pulled off him with an aggrieved sigh, leaning toward the aisle to tell Happy to shut the fuck up.

Perhaps it was the warmth of Tony’s mouth juxtaposed against the cold air suddenly hitting him, but Peter felt horribly exposed; he jammed his flaccid dick back into his jeans before burying his face in his hands.

“C’mon, kid, we’re being moved,” Tony said. He heard a groan as the man stood up, but Peter refused to look. It was stupid, so  _ stupid,  _ but he could feel his eyes burn with tears. “Pete?”

Tony’s voice had dropped to a whisper, and Peter could feel him leaning over, breath ghosting against the back of Peter’s palms. “It’s okay, kid.”

Peter just shook his head.

When Tony’s hand wrapped around his bicep and tugged up, his first instinct was to sink further down into his chair. But then he thought of staying in the same room as Happy, who had clearly heard _everything_ \-- all of Peter’s pathetic whines and cries and moans -- and he let Tony pull him to his feet.

Thankfully he didn’t have to pass Happy along the way to wherever Tony was taking him -- which turned out to be the bathroom. Peter sniffled as he passed Tony into the room, hurriedly brushing the back of his hand over his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked as Tony locked the door behind them.

As the man turned around, his wicked grin fell immediately. “Pete, no. I said it’s okay, kiddo. Nothing happened. It’s all good.”

Peter nodded, turning away to conceal his watery eyes. “Yeah, I know.” His voice quivered with the lie. “‘M sorry.”

Tony sighed, stepping forward until he had Peter pressed against the sink. “Now I’ve made you cry. And not in the fun way.”

Clearing his throat, Peter asked, “There’s a fun way?”

“Oh, you poor, sweet thing,” Tony cooed. His hand brushed through the curls against Peter’s forehead. “Maybe another time. Right now, I want to make you feel good.”

“Sir, I don’t know…”

“Pete.” Tony’s hands cupped his cheeks, forcing the boy to look up at him. “It’s just you and me, okay? Now, tell me honestly: do you want this?”

“Yeah,” Peter said. As if there had ever been any other answer.

 

Peter had had many fantasies of losing his virginity to Tony Stark over the years. Surprisingly, none of them ever took place in the bathroom of Tony’s private jet, with Peter kneeling atop the sink (not comfortable in the slightest, but totally worth it) as the man fucked him into the mirror.

“Look, Petie,” Tony grunted as he fisted Peter’s curls and pulled the boy’s head back. “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

The teen’s skin was bright red, his chest heaving for breath, hair damp and face sweaty. He was more interested in how Tony looked as the man peered over Peter’s shoulder, cheeks ruddy and teeth tightly clenched.

Peter ended up completely plastered against the mirror, slick skin sliding against the glass with every thrust as Tony spilled inside him. His eyes were shutting closed in exhaustion, breath fogging up the glass with each gasp, when Tony’s hand wrapped around his cock.

That was all it took -- one little squeeze, and Peter was crying out as his come splattered all over the mirror.

Peter was too limp to help in any way as Tony struggled to pick him up off the sink and carry him to a cushioned bench. “S’almost as big as my bed,” he commented tiredly as Tony sat down, arranging Peter to curl up in his lap. “Who needs that in a bathroom?”

“Us, now,” Tony retorted. Peter sighed in lieu of an agreement.

“Well, Peter Parker,” the man said as he stroked the boy’s curls. “Welcome to the Mile High Club.”

“What’s that?” Peter murmured tiredly. “Is that like a frequent flyer’s program? Will I get discounts?”

Tony laughed. Peter loved the way the man’s chest shook with it. He pressed his palm against Tony’s ribs to chase the sensation.

“Whatever you want, kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Tony decided to fuck Peter raw in his living room, it’s possible he hadn’t thought things through.

Well, he had partially: Peter, bent over the the coffee table, wood warping under his grip, crying out as Tony fucked him into incoherency. It’s just that his plan ended there.

He had failed to take into account what would happen if Peter refused to come quick ( _ really,  _ the one time that little, pretty cock wasn’t spurting almost immediately?) and someone walked in.

Two someones, to be exact.

It was hard to concentrate on anything beyond Peter’s the burning-hot, slick skin of Peter’s back beneath him; the broken, choked off noises elicited from Peter’s raw throat; and, of course, the tight,  _ wet _ heat of the boy’s asshole squeezing around Tony’s cock.

He could be forgiven, perhaps, for not hearing them coming. It wasn’t like  _ he _ was the one with super senses, though he supposed Peter was slightly preoccupied as he writhed against the table.

“Wh-what is that?” Peter murmured hazily, seconds before a faint  _ tap-tap-tap _ could be heard between the slapping of Tony’s flesh against his.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone walked in on him having sex, so Tony didn’t think to stop; in fact, he had been fucking this sweet boy for so long, he had forgotten it was entirely illegal. “It’s okay, baby boy,” Tony comforted as Peter’s muscle began to tense. The man slowed his pace so he could drape along Peter’s back reassuringly. There had been a few times since the airplane incident that Happy had been witness to their tryst, but the boy was still adjusting to acting so uninhibited.

He heard Pepper before he saw her (and no doubt it was the same for her, given how loud the echoes travelled): “Are you fucking kidding me right now, Tony?” she yelled from down the hall.

“I’m definitely fucking!” Tony called back, wrapping Peter’s upper body in his arms when the boy began to shake. “It’s okay, baby,” he repeated softly. “You’re so close, aren’t you?”

Peter’s chin wobbled as he gave a slight nod.

Tony’s hand slipped down to wrap around the boy’s neglected cock. “Want to stop, Petie?”

This time Peter’s head shook, and Tony knew he would happily endure all of Pepper’s yelling in order to give his sweet little boy a toe-curling orgasm.

His pace slowed down even as he began to hurriedly stroke the boy’s cock. He could hear Pepper and Happy’s exasperated conversation more clearly now.

Happy warned, “You’re not going to want to walk in them.”

“Honest to God, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before!” Pepper scoffed as she approached. Rounding the corner, she was initially unfazed as she said, “Alright, can we get this show on the road?” She twirled her finger in the air impatiently.

Tony made the mistake of turning toward her, the shift of his position leaving more of Peter exposed. He locked eyes with her just in time to see her jaw drop in horror. “Jesus Christ!” she hollered, pointing at the beautiful, flushed boy currently ducking his head in mortification.

“Told ya,” Happy sighed as he stared at the two, unfazed.

“You knew about this?” Pepper demanded shrilly as she turned toward Tony’s head of security. “That kid is underage!”

Tony was about to open his mouth in his own defense (not a very good one, admittedly; it mostly had to do with how Peter’s ass was worth a hundred life sentences in prison), when Happy reasoned, “Hey, this isn’t the worst thing we’ve caught him doing.”

There was a moment of silence, save for the gasps Peter was now trying to muffle into his hand, and Tony’s intensifying grunts as he tried harder and harder to force the boy into crying out. Then Pepper said, albeit with great reluctance, “I hate to admit it, but you do have a point.”

“Are you two fucking done?” Tony snapped. “The kid can’t come like this.”

Peter whimpered in miserable agreement.

“You have sixty seconds,” Pepper warned before her heels were click-clacking down the hall.

“They know how good you can take this cock, kid,” Tony praised between swipes of his tongue along the boy’s neck. “You don’t care who I fuck you in front of, do you? As long as you get this cock. Such a fucking whore.”

“S-sir,” Peter whined. “I, I wanna feel your come.”

“Oh, is that what you’ve been holding out for, baby?” Tony questioned. “Wanted my come filling your little hole?”

“Oh,  _ God.” _ The boy’s voice was deliciously strangled, and Tony knew he wouldn’t last for much longer.

Luckily, Tony couldn’t either; his last few thrusts were so brutal the wood table groaned in protest, eliciting beautiful cries from Peter’s throat. The sounds -- and the possibility of who may be listening -- were enough to tip Tony over the edge; he made sure to keep the pressure of his hand on Peter’s cock steady even as the languor of orgasm spread through his muscles.

His boy was coming almost immediately, forehead slamming against the table as his arms gave out.

 

Tony dressed fairly quickly once the fatigue leaked from his limbs, but as he handed over Peter’s shirt for the boy to pull on, he noticed Peter’s small frown.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Tony asked, caressing his knuckles along the boy’s cheek.

Peter’s large, brown eyes stared up at him. “So, what  _ is _ the worst thing you’ve been caught doing, Mr. Stark?”

Tony groaned.  _ Fucking Happy. _


	3. Chapter 3

Tony knew Peter was teased at school. Some of it was out of his control, an unfortunate product of the teen’s natural shyness and easy-going nature. But when he found out Peter was being taunted for his “imaginary” Stark internship, well, Tony knew he had to put an end to that.

He  _personally_  extended an invitation for Midtown Tech’s AP physics class (which just so happened to include Peter, of course) to visit Stark Industries’ headquarters. On the day, he purposefully waited until all the excitable, eager teens were squeezed into the lobby before making his grand entrance. The immediate roar of cheers was gratifying, of course, but he only gave a distracted smile as his eyes searched the crowd for that familiar head of chestnut curls.

“I can’t stay,” Tony warned before a teacher could try to rope him into giving a private tour. “In fact, I just need to borrow my intern for a few minutes.”

When Tony’s gaze finally landed on Peter, he could have rolled his eyes; the boy still stood with his friends, Ned and Michelle (whom Tony recognized from photos Peter had eagerly sent of the three of them whenever he thought they were doing anything shareably exciting). He made no move to step forward, as if worried Tony was somehow calling on a  _different_  teenaged intern.

“Well?” the man prompted, arms crossing impatiently. “You coming, Pete?”

Almost in tandem, the group of students gasped and swivelled to stare as shy, little Peter Parker made his way through the crowd. “Y-yeah, of course, sir.”

The fatherly sling of Tony’s arms around the boy’s shoulders belied his dark intentions. “I’ve got a board meeting in ten,” he whispered in Peter’s ear, which was currently reddening at the tip. “Thought I’d show you off a little.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

His naivete, even now, made Tony smile.

“I’m proud of you, kid.” He saw a flash of burning red before Peter ducked his head. “Just want everyone to know how lucky I am.”

The words were by no means insincere, but they had their desired effect nonetheless: shutting Peter up as they rode up to the sixteenth floor, where the meeting would be taking place.

Tony strolled into the room first, turning around with his arms raised expectantly. “Well?”

“It’s… very nice, sir,” Peter said, somewhat dubiously.

“Not quite as exciting as the lab your peers are currently touring, is it?”

“Uh, well, it’s just…” the boy stammered, wringing his hands nervously. Sighing, he admitted, “Not really, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t worry,” Tony soothed, rubbing his beard to hide his growing smirk. “That will change soon. Now lock the door.”

Peter glanced between Tony and the door a few times before finally sliding the lock in place. “Sir?” he asked, voice sweetly timid, as he turned back around. Tony hoped the boy never lost that wide-eyed sincerity.

“I’ve missed you, kid,” he revealed as he sprawled across the leather chair at the head of the long table. Patting his lap invitingly, he said, “Come here.”

Regardless of the many times Tony had already fucked the boy, he stubbornly clung to his sweet innocence; even now, his steps were slow and hesitant, eyes shyly glued to the floor, as he stepped between the man’s spread legs.

“That’s it,” Tony gently encouraged, nudging Peter to turn around before gripping his hips and tugging him down. The boy squirmed back until his backside was pressed firmly against Tony’s crotch.

Arms wrapping around the boy’s stomach, Tony nipped and sucked on Peter’s neck, watching as red bloomed across his skin. Pulling away, he murmured, “I’m a little hurt here, Pete.” The boy’s head whipped around, eyes wide with surprise. Before he could be hit with an onslaught of concern, Tony continued, “Didn’t you miss me, too?” He accentuated his question with a slight roll of his hips.

The teen’s expression softened as he pressed an affirming kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Of course, Mr. Stark.”

One of Tony’s hands dragged over Peter’s stomach and down to his crotch – just to see how  _much_  he had been missed, exactly. He gave a teasing grin as he cupped the boy’s growing erection. “Oh, you definitely did.”

Blushing, Peter demurely pressed his face into Tony’s neck. “How long until your meeting?” the little minx asked, rubbing his cock into Tony’s grasp.

Tony answered by flicking open the button of Peter’s jeans. And perhaps the boy had loss some of that delectable shyness after all, as he hopped off Tony’s lap, tugging down his pants and leaning forward over the table, all unprompted.

“That how you want it, baby?” Tony asked as he stood, cupping and kneading the boy’s ass with one hand as the other splayed across Peter’s back and pressed him further down. “Are you ready for me?”

Even with Peter’s breathless, “Yes,” as he arched his back, hips pushing back, Tony was entirely unprepared for his fingers, brushing against the boy’s asshole, to be instead met with hard silicone. “What’s this?” he questioned, gripping the base of the toy and giving an experimental tug. Peter keened, hips canting back against the plug. Pulling a little more, Tony watched, fascinated, as the red-coloured toy began to slide out, shiny with lube.

“Shit, Pete,” he swore. He teasingly pushed the plug back in, settling into a shallow in-and-out that had Peter quietly moaning. “You knew I was going to fuck you today, huh?”

“I, uh.” The boy’s voice was already hoarse. “I hoped, sir.”

“All you have to do is ask, kid,” Tony assured. “I’m going to take this out now, Petey. Replace it with my cock. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

He rested his free hand on the boy’s asscheek as he began to pull, but he could feel Peter’s muscles tensing nervously. “You’re such a good boy,” he said, pausing to soothingly stroke the teen’s skin until he felt those muscles release. As he continued to pull the toy out, he murmured, “So smart, stretching your hole for daddy’s cock.”

“P-please,” Peter stuttered as the edge of the toy slid out. He gasped as it was replaced by Tony’s fingers, warm and calloused and curving against his prostate. “‘S not enough,” he insisted, even as he greedily thrust back, eating up Tony’s fingers with ease.

“Keep your cheeks spread for me, baby boy,” Tony instructed as he withdrew his fingers to begin undressing. There were a few grumbled complaints from the teen beneath him, but he reached back as instructed to grab his ass, putting his stretched hole on display for the older man.

“So fucking beautiful,” Tony groaned as he shoved down his boxers and wrapped a hand around his hardening cock.

He didn’t even have to apply any pressure; simply pressed his cock against Peter’s hole and watched, groaning, as it slipped inside right up to the base. “How do you want it, Pete?” he asked, as his hands engulfed the boy’s slender hips.

“Rough,” Peter said, as if the kid had ever desired anything else since Tony had fucked his virgin hole against the mirror of a plane’s bathroom.

Thankfully the table was bolted to the floor; surely it would have skidded across the room, otherwise, as Tony held on to the teen’s hips and  _pounded_  into him, harder and harsher until Peter was crying out with each thrust.

“So fucking good, Pete. You were made for this cock,” he praised, reaching forward to fist a hand in the boy’s curls. The hand remaining on the teen’s hip kept him pressed down, forcing the boy’s neck to crane back as Tony pulled on his hair.

“Yes, yes!” Peter had to shout over the sound of slapping skin just to be heard. “Mr. Stark,  _harder_ , I can take it-”

Peter’s pleas were interrupted by three heavy knocks on the door. Tony slowed his pace, just a little, enough to hear the hesitant, “Uh, Tony?”

“Oh crap, sir, your meeting!” Peter whispered, bracing his hands on the table to push himself upright.

Tony had no plans of stopping, instead crushing the teen’s back against his chest in a restrictive hug as he continued to pound into that firm, sweet ass. “A little busy, here!” he yelled at the door, leaving out his silent addition of,  _Balls deep in my underage protegee._

But from the pained pitched of the man’s voice, he was quite sure it was entirely unnecessary to say. And it was intoxicating, knowing he could be so reckless with their relationship. Knowing the board members were gathered out there, awkwardly shuffling their feet and avoiding eye contact with one another as they were forced to listen to Tony fuck, fueled the man’s vigor.

“Aren’t you going to let them hear you, sweetheart?” Tony asked, the sweetness of his tone opposing the harsh snap of his hips.

When Peter released a small whine, Tony pressed an encouraging kiss to his temple. “That’s it, you’re such a good boy.”

It came as no surprise to Tony, by now, that it was the praise that had the boy moaning, louder and louder with each word. “You take this cock so good, kid. I want everyone to hear your delicious noises.”

Soon Peter was pressed back down against the table, crying out as he spilled his release all over the shiny, waxed floors beneath. “Kid, I’m going to fill you up with my come,” Tony promised. “Want to sit in class all day with my seed filling your ass?”

Peter let out a low, ragged moan, head nodding furiously from where it was pressed against the table. “Yes please, sir.”

Tony’s groan as he came may have been louder than usual – but he did have an audience to impress, after all. He was quick to replace his cock with the plug (with the reminder of asking the boy all about it later). Eyeing Peter’s noticeably shaky legs, he took pity on the boy by helping him back into his jeans.

He gave Peter a few seconds to catch his breath before lightly swatting his thigh. “Go unlock the door, kid,” he instructed. It was a true testimony to Tony’s prowess that Peter stumbled over, so fucked into exhaustion that he forgot entirely about the people on the other side until the door was swinging open.

Peter leapt back, shielding his body behind the door against the influx of disgruntled (and, let’s be honest, slightly aroused) businessmen. “Well? Can we begin?” one of them grumbled as they all settled at the table – Hartman, if Tony remembered correctly (though he often didn’t).

“Of course,” Tony said. He didn’t bother glancing at the boy as he snapped his fingers and pointed at his lap. “Pete, come here.”

“Um, sir, shouldn’t I-?”

“Now, Peter.” Tony wasn’t sure if he had ever actually used the teen’s first full name, going straight from “Spider-boy” to “Pete.” The boy himself was likely aware of this, as he trudged over and perched on Tony’s knee without complaint.

The meeting began as normal, save for the fact that no one could look Tony or Peter in the eye. Which suited him just fine, as he slowly eased Peter back until the boy was pressed against his chest. By the time the meeting ended (prematurely, as Tony had grown bored and demanded they wrap it up), Peter’s head was tucked under his chin as the boy lightly snored.

“Mm,” Peter moaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly after Tony nudged him awake. “Time’s it, sir?”

“Time for you to rejoin your class, kid.”

 

He made sure to walk Peter down to the robotics lab his class was currently gawking at. Peter was blissfully unaware of the purple blotches decorating his neck, or how devastatingly mussed his curls were. He seemed preoccupied only with disguising his noticeable limp, feet shuffling in awkward, tight steps as he tried to compensate.

It probably shouldn’t have pleased Tony as much as it did, handing Peter over to the teacher chaperones knowing his come was still wet in the boy’s hole.  _At least_ , he thought to himself, innocently ruffling Peter’s hair in parting before the boy went to rejoin his friends,  _Those idiots won’t be saying he doesn’t know me ever again._


	4. Chapter 4

Tony wouldn't admit it to anyone else. Hell, he could barely admit it to  _ himself _ (and then, usually only deep into the night, followed by alcohol to wash it away).

But now, he couldn’t deny his arousal; not with the occasional thunderstruck glances Peter threw Tony’s way as he gawked at the technology all around them, as if Tony had personally melded every scrap of metal. Sure, he had programmed the AI, pitched the overall design, and helped with the mechanical engineering. He still didn’t deserve the awe-inspired, _worshipful_ way Peter looked at him.

He ate it up anyway.

Peter’s fingers dragged along the panels lining the wall, not quite touching, as though he thought himself somehow unworthy. “It’s okay,” Tony said. The softness of his tone still sent Peter jumping. “Touch whatever you want, kid.”

He watched Peter’s fingers dance across one of the screens, viewing everything from topographic maps and geological reports to records of the dehydrated, inedible  _ shit _ SHIELD kept stocked at all times, for whatever ridiculous reason.

Soon growing bored, Tony pushed off the wall and walked further inside the quinjet. “Come on,” he beckoned as he made his way to the cockpit.

Peter always walked with complete and utter silence, even outside his suit, no matter what shoes he was wearing. So Tony was surprised to turn around, arms open wide in acclaim… only to see Peter had not moved, glued to his spot. At Tony’s impatiently raised brow, he said shyly, “Are you sure?”

Peter’s persistent hesitation was a fault Tony hoped to break, if only he could find a way to ensure Peter’s eager-to-please, puppy-crush on him was unaffected. “Get your tight little ass over here, Pete.”

The teen ambled over without further protest, hands wringing nervously as he chewed on his lip. Tony sighed and grabbed his elbow when he was close enough, all but dragging the boy to the control panel. He clucked his tongue, waving dismissively at Peter’s immediate onslaught of, “Wow, this is so cool, Mr. Stark, thank you so much for showing me this, I can’t believe I’m actually in the Avenger’s jet, Ned is never gonna believe this!”

“Yeah, yeah, cool stuff, kid,” he muttered. “Now listen.” He grabbed Peter’s shoulders, squeezing the boy’s slender, but powerful, frame beneath his hands. Peter twisted his head to look up at him, eyes peeking out between thick, dark lashes. “I programmed you in.”

“Wh-what?” Peter’s head whipped around so fast between Tony’s face and the control panel before him, the man was surprised his neck didn’t snap. “You - I, uh - what does that even mean, sir?”

Tony smothered down a grin at Peter’s stuttered excitement. “Go ahead,” he urged, hand closing around Peter’s deceptively fragile-looking wrist and tugging it toward the sensor. “Try it.”

Peter continued to look between Tony and the technology as his hand was placed on the screen. His brow only furrowed more when the AI said, “Welcome. Voice activation required.”

“Uh…” Peter licked his lips before saying, “I-I’m, uh, Spider-Man?”

There was a dull beep and then, “Access denied.”

Peter, a teen intelligent beyond his years and one of the strongest mutates Tony had ever known, turned to him with a pitiful pout _. _ Tony merely chuckled, shaking his head. “Try again.”

This time the boy cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and stared at the panel with an intent focus. Tony had to smother a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. “Spider-Man,” Peter said, with an unrecognizable command to his voice.

Beep. “Access denied.”

Tony almost felt guilty, with the way Peter’s false bravado immediately melted.  _ Almost. _

“Mr. Stark…” Peter drawled, turning to him with narrowed eyes.  _ “You _ programmed this, correct?”

Tony’s silent smile likely told the boy all he needed to know.

_ “Ugh,” _ Peter groaned, in that aggrieved, ungrateful tone only a teenager could perfect. “Uh, Spider...boy?” he asked, tone defeated.

Beep.

As Peter began trying any name he could think of, Tony settled into the captain’s chair. It looked like he could be here a while, and as Peter’s voice grew harder and more determined, he knew the boy would sooner beat the system to a pulp before asking Tony to give him the codename.

It took the boy longer than Tony was expecting, in all honesty, but it was worth every moment. He snorted when Peter said, voice painfully hesitant, “Tightest ass in town?”

There were a  _ lot _ of nicknames to try, all solely devoted to his ass. Perhaps Tony should have felt less proud and more dirty, but when he spun the chair around to give Peter a surreptitious up-down -- no, his devotion to that ass (especially when it was squeezed into spandex) was completely justified.

And he smiled, just to himself, when Peter shuffled as close as possible to the screen and whispered, “Mr. Stark’s, uh, b-boyfriend?”

Perhaps it was his guilt at hearing that low beep, as if it were not only denying access but also the state of their relationship, that prompted him to finally hint, “Pete, what do I always call you?”

“Uh, ‘hot stuff’? Baby boy? Kid? Which, I mean --” Tony could have facepalmed as the boy began to devolve into a famous Parker ramble. “Is kind of weird? No offence, sir. I mean, I guess I call you  _ sir _ and  _ Mr. Stark.  _ And don’t get me wrong, I  _ like _ that you call me ‘kid,’ I just don’t know, if, like, that means I have some weird kind of fetish or-”

Tony jumped up from the chair and hurried over to the teen, squeezing the boy’s biceps and giving him a shake. “Pete. I meant in  _ fights.” _

“Oh.” Peter’s cheeks flushed as he turned away in embarrassment. But his disappointed sigh soon turned into an excitement gasp as realization hit him. “Oh! Underoos!”

Bright lights flooded the cabin, along with the whir of engaged machinery. “Welcome, Underoos,” the AI greeted at last.

“Come on, let’s get this in the air already,” Tony said as he pulled Peter away from the panel.

“You’re gonna fly it?” Peter asked in amazement.

“No,” he said as he sank into the chair and tugged the boy onto his lap.  _ “We _ are.”

Peter, rather predictably, had protests to make. “B-but Mr. Stark, I don’t know how to fly a plane!”

“It’s okay, I’ll show you,” Tony assured. “Turn on the ignition.”

“I don’t know how!” Peter cried.

“Shh, shh,” Tony murmured, stroking a hand up and down the boy’s rigid spine. “You just flick that button to the left.”

“I-is it gonna take off right away?” Peter asked as his fingers paused centimetres from the ignition.

“No, Pete, there are quite a few more steps in between.” He was rapidly losing patience, but he knew it would be worth it in the end. “Okay, good job. Now you’re going to flick all these buttons up,” he instructed, gesturing at a row of engine starters.

This time Peter followed the instruction without protest, and Tony stroked his hair as he whispered, “Good boy.” He didn’t miss the way Peter’s spine shuddered at the words. “Now we’re going to push on the thruster here.” His hand noticeably engulfed Peter’s as they both rested on the thruster, and he may have taken a moment to admire the teen’s bony, pale fingers peeking out between Tony’s thicker, olive-toned ones before he began to apply some pressure.

“Mr. Stark, we’re moving!” Peter shouted, arm trembling against Tony’s as the plane began to inch forward.

As they moved faster and faster down the runway, Peter squirmed anxiously. “Sir? I don’t know what to do!”

“When I tell you, you’re going to gently pull the sidestick inward.”

The upward thrust into the air was a little jerky, but Tony was quick to recover. When they were finally at a steady elevation and Tony flicked on the autopilot, Peter all but collapsed into his chest. “I can’t believe I just flew a plane!” he exclaimed, breathless.

Tony snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Kid, you literally flew one of my jets into  _ Coney Island _ for Christ’s sake.”

“I was on the  _ outside,” _ Peter argued. “And it’s not an experience I would like to repeat!”

“Well, speaking of an experience I  _ would _ like to repeat…” Tony began, wrapping his arms around the boy’s torso and canting his hips. “You haven’t earned your  _ quinjet _ mile high club membership.”

Peter shifted around in Tony’s lap until his body was sideways, so he could peer up at Tony. “Do we have to have sex every time we’re on a new plane?” he asked. There was nothing coy about it; just purely innocent intrigue that Tony had no right to take advantage of.

Oh, but he would.

“Of course, kid,” he lied. “It doesn’t carry over, plane to plane.”

He couldn’t explain why he said it. Peter was a hormonal, teenage boy; all Tony had to do was say “hi,” and the boy was sporting a hard-on. But he loved when the boy tried hard to please, or when Peter thought he had something to  _ prove. _

“Stand up and brace your hands against the top of the control panel,” Tony instructed.

Peter stood without question, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, before leaning forward. Tony took his time pulling down Peter’s jeans and boxers, stroking the boy’s creamy, thick thighs from his leisurely seat. The boy’s legs were already shaking by the time Tony spread apart his cheeks and swiped his tongue over that perfect, little hole.

“M-Mr. Stark!” Peter cried out, hips jerking forward before Tony could catch them. “What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve been meaning to show you, kid,” Tony said in lieu of an explanation. “I promise it’ll feel good.”

It didn’t take long for Peter to go from uncomfortable and unsure to wantonly arching his back and trying to spear himself on Tony’s tongue. “Oh, oh, Mr. Stark,” he moaned. “Why-why haven’t you, ah, done this before?”

He might have answered, had his mouth not been thoroughly occupied.

When his fingers joined in, he genuinely wondered if Peter’s come was going to spray across the control panel. Luckily the teen kept it together, though Tony had the sneaking suspicion it was only because the teen was furiously clenching the base of his cock to ward off orgasm.

“Do you think you’re ready for me, Pete?” he asked later, when he had three fingers lazily scissoring open the boy’s hole.

“Nng,” was all the teen managed from where his face was buried against the dashboard. “Sir. Please.”

Tony ripped open his slacks and pulled out his cock, eyes briefly shutting closed as he wrapped a hand around himself. Slathering himself in saliva, he pushed inside, eliciting groans from the both of them.

“How are you still so tight?” Tony grunted as he began to thrust.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whimpered. “You can’t -- ah, crap --  _ talk _ like that, ‘m gonna come, sir.”

Tony’s fingers danced along the arch of the teen’s spine, crawling up toward his neck until he could grasp a fistful of honey curls. He yanked upward until Peter’s back was flush against his chest, ostensibly to bring the boy into his arms, but he knew the AI would be recording the cockpit at all times. And the thought only deepened his arousal; he needed to keep Peter’s flushed, ecstatic expression in frame, almost on the verge of orgasming just at the  _ thought _ of someone opening the video feed to Tony fucking this beautiful, painfully underage, boy.

“Tell them who’s fucking you so good,” he growled as he twisted Peter’s head to the side and, unbeknownst to the boy, turning him toward the camera

So lost in his pleasure, Peter didn’t question the wording. “Mr. Stark, ah, Mr. Stark, sir, please! I-I’ve needed to come for so long.”

He could feel the teen’s ass begin to clench, all the muscles of his body freeze in impedding orgasm, yet Tony gave his permission nonetheless. “It’s okay, Pete, that’s it. Come for me.”

He wondered if the camera picked up on every detail, from Peter’s choked off, little groan, the tremble in his clenched fists, the spray of his thick come all over the controls.

Reaching out, he swiped his fingertips through the mess, smearing white fluid all over one of the screens as he continued to pound into Peter’s hole, which was clenched impossibly tight. The poor boy was overstimulated, every thrust evoking a small, pitiful cry from his throat, and the noises soon had Tony spilling inside the teen.

“Shit, kid,” he grunted, limbs growing weary, as he rested his forehead against the boy’s shoulder. Chuckling, he pressed feather-light kisses to the boy’s skin. “Maybe I really  _ should _ change your codename to ‘tightest ass in town.’”

“Please don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand part 5 has yet to be written :)


	5. Chapter 5

Tony had once said Peter’s unassuming, good nature would be the cause of many problems in the teen’s life. Of course, the man had said that before roughly taking Peter in a stall in the boy’s bathroom in between AP chemistry and Spanish -- so it had been kind of hard, at the time, for the words to properly register.

He was about to encounter one of those  _ problems _ _ , _ though.

He had arrived at Stark Industries a little earlier than expected, and would soon get to see his boyfriend. All in all, it had been a good day, and so he had a slight spring in his step as he aimlessly walked down the halls of SI’s business division.

Most of the people here knew him by now, either giving him polite smiles as they passed by… or determinedly avoiding eye contact, depending on whether they had been subjected to overhearing Tony savagely fucking the teen or not.

He was absorbed in trading ugly snapchat filters with Ned (who had just sent him a snap with his mouth open wide into some kind of swirling void that took up most of the screen), when someone cleared their throat rather pointedly. Peter glanced up to see a man with a shaved head and broad shoulders squeezed into a two-piece suit. “Uh?”

“Looking for someone?” the man asked.

“Oh, no, I-” At that moment, his screen flashed with a snap of Ned vomiting out a rainbow, and Peter had to bite back his chuckle. “I’m just waiting for Mr. Stark to finish his meeting.”

The bemused, downward turn of the man’s lips suddenly began to curve into a smile. “Ah, I see,” he said. “You…  _ work _ for Tony, hmm?”

Something in the man’s tone had Peter temporarily floundering. “Well, actually -”

“Tony’s trying to steal me away from a competing company,” the man continued unencumbered. “Why don’t you help convince me?”

He simply walked away after that, and at least it was in the  _ direction _ of Tony’s meeting -- so Peter decided to follow. Though he had no choice, really; with Tony, he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the man to realize there was no point in being with a fifteen year-old, much less  _ exclusively _ _. _ If he fudged up this deal, he worried what Tony may say or do.

He was determined to stay polite, for the sake of the deal. So when the man stood outside a room, leaving the door open for Peter to enter first, the teen shot him a forced smile before peering inside. He recognized it as one of the board meeting rooms -- in fact, it was similar to the one Tony had fucked him inside a few weeks ago, as awaiting members stood outside the door forced to listen. Stepping inside, he flushed at the memory as a small smile teased at his lips.

“Must have a pretty good set-up, bagging the infamous Tony Stark,” the man said as he let the door close behind him. Stepping toward the teen, his hand began to adjust his tie. “So, what’s the price?”

Peter licked his lip, nervously eye the door just peeking behind the man’s shoulders. “You’re going to have to discuss that with Mr. Stark,” he said.

“Oh, I hadn’t realized Stark Industries branched out to include pimping out teenage escorts. I would have left Hammer ages ago.”

The teen could feel his stomach morph into a heavy, anxious weight. “It’s not what you think,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” the man said as he stepped forward, flashing Peter a toothy grin. “I’m not a cop or anything. Just an interested customer.”

“Like I said,” Peter insisted between tightly clenched teeth. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”

“Do I though?” he questioned aloud, tugging his tie down just a little more. “Elite, billionaire playboy picking up a poor, underage boy toy from… Queens, I presume? Not quite the stuff of fairytales, after all.”

“You don’t know anything about us,” Peter said. Shouldering past the man, he said, “We’re done here.”

He had only taken a few steps toward the door when it swung open… to reveal none other than Tony. “Done with what?” he asked, casually leaning against the door with a sharp grin that Peter knew meant nothing good.

When he felt a meaty arm slung around his shoulders, Peter had to tamper down the instinct to throw on his web-shooters and spray the sleazy man against the wall. Instead, he used what he hoped was normal, human-level strength to struggle out of the sudden grip.

“Found your little secret, Stark,” the man said, blindly unfazed by Tony’s presence.

“Secret?” Tony snorted, pushing off the wall and strolling into the room. “There’s nothing secret about Peter’s internship here at SI.”

“Is that what you call it, an  _ internship _ _?” _ the man said. “Well, whatever it’s called. I want in. And a 10% bonus, for my silence.”

Chuckling, Tony rubbed one hand through his goatee as he used the other to wrap around Peter’s forearm and tug him aside. “How about… you get the  _ fuck _ out of my building. Deal’s off.”

“I’m sure the cops would love to know you’re fucking an underage intern,” he threatened.

“Yes, I’m sure they would take your unsubstantiated claim very seriously. Perhaps interview some of my _very_ generously paid, _loyal_ employees. Review my security footage and… what will they find, Fri?”

The man’s voice suddenly filled the room.  _ “I’m not a cop or anything. Just an interested customer.” _

“Sure, it’s not enough for a conviction,” Tony acknowledged, throwing his hands up in a shrug. “But it is enough to ruin your reputation. Maybe your wife will finally leave you, take the kids with her. I’m sure she’d get a great settlement in the divorce.”

Peter wisely stepped aside as the man barreled out of the room without another word. And then he wished, only a little, that he had followed as Tony immediately turned toward him.

“Mr. Stark, sir, I’m sorry!” he gushed.

“You’re  _ sorry _ _?” _ Tony echoed, brows raising in dismay.

“I didn’t know what he wanted at first, and he said he had an important deal with you, y’know, and I thought you’d get mad --”

“Mad? Pete, I am  _ beyond _ mad right now. I have half a mind to suit up and blast that piece of shit into the fucking stratosphere.”

The teen’s eyes squeezed shut in a grimace, and he flinched back when he felt rough fingers brush against his cheek. “But Pete, sweetheart,” Tony murmured. “I’m not mad at  _ you.” _

“Y-you’re not?” Peter asked, eyes hesitantly peeling open.

“Shit, kid. C’mere.” The teen gladly buried his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck as the man’s arms settled on the small of his back. “You okay? I  _ will _ go after him, if you want.”

“No,” Peter sighed, rubbing his cheek against the stubble along Tony’s throat. “I just want you.”

“You’re stuck with me, kid,” Tony promised, rubbing Peter’s back. “You don’t have to worry.”

Peter let himself enjoy the embrace for a long moment, before finally pulling away to flash Tony a sly smile. “Enjoy your meeting, sir?” he asked, voice pitched low and husky.

The man shook his head as one of his hands slowly dropped from Peter’s back to cup his ass. “You know it wasn’t the same without you, pretty boy.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, Mr. Stark?” Arching his spine, he pressed back into Tony’s hand.

“Mmm, you know I left the others next door,” Tony said. Nudging Peter’s head to the side with his nose, he began pressing delicate kisses to the boy’s neck. “Didn’t even get to finish.”

Tony would probably laugh at him later, but Peter was rather proud of himself for saying, “Can I help you finish, sir?” It was a line straight out of a cheesy porno, but at least Tony played along.

“Take off all your clothes, kid.”

Peter blushed as he hurriedly tugged off his sweater and button-up in one go, only to end up awkwardly dancing around with the twin collars stuck on his head. “Need some help?” Tony asked, who apparently thought  _ help _ meant running his fingers along Peter’s abdominal muscles and flicking his nipples.

“Hey!” he squealed, though his indignant sound turned into a blissful moan when the harsh nail was replaced with a warm, wet mouth. Ripping the clothes from his head, uncaring if the material tore in the process, he enveloped Tony’s head in his hands. “Don’t stop.”

Of course Tony’s mouth immediately unlatched from his hardened nipple, but Peter was left whining for only the few seconds it took him to lick across Peter’s chest to his other, neglected one. 

“You recording this, Fri?” Tony asked after releasing Peter’s skin from between his teeth.

“Yes, boss. On your private server.”

“Good girl.” The man’s praise had Peter frowning, which was ridiculous because Friday, although intelligent, was a  _ program _ after all. And of course Tony caught it, even as Peter ducked his head and busied himself with unbuckling the man’s belt. “Do you want to be good for me, Petey?” he asked, grabbing Peter’s chin and forcing the boy’s head up.

“Yes, sir,” Peter replied earnestly.

As he motioned for Peter to finish getting undressed, the boy eagerly obeyed. “You know I like it when everyone knows you’re mine…” Tony trailed off, pushing Peter toward the table until the naked teen hopped on. “Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

Eagerly nodding, Peter wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist and pulled the man closer. The moment his fingers closed around Tony’s cock, half-hard inside his silken boxers, the teen was moaning in anticipation.

“Sir, can I ask you a favour?” he asked as rubbed his aching cock against Tony’s gradually filling one.

“You can ask,” Tony agreed, one arm wrapping around Peter’s back to tug the teen closer, as the other fisted the curls at the nape of his neck.

“W-would you come on me today?” he shyly requested before pressing his forehead into Tony’s shoulder to avoid the man’s gaze.

His answer came in the form of Tony’s teeth sinking into his collarbone as the man groaned. “Fuck, kid. I haven’t covered you in my come before, have I?”

“No, sir.” Peter sighed, as though he had been tragically deprived. And in this moment, as he lined their cocks up _just right_ between his clasped hands, it felt like he truly had been.

Tony grunted, thrusting up into Peter’s grip as his hand on Peter’s ass pulled the boy even closer. “That’s it, Pete. Be a good boy, and I’ll mark you with my come.”

The man filled his mouth with the teen’s throat, biting and sucking until Peter was crying out at the painful pleasure. The thought of being claimed by Tony, not only by the bruises but the man’s  _ come _ _ ,  _ had Peter tipping his head back and letting out a throaty moan. He pushed into his own hands, not at all conscious of how hungry and needy he was acting, or of how true the creepy guy’s earlier accusations possibly were. All he knew was the velvety glide of their cocks together, how warm Tony body’s was, how slippery his tongue felt.

Loosening his grip, he rubbed one of his palms across the heads of their cocks -- it was hard to miss how Peter’s didn’t quite reach the length of Tony’s -- and used their joint precome to lubricate his motions.

“Fuck, that’s a good boy,” Tony praised, the hand resting on the teen’s ass squeezing hard enough to likely leave a bruise.

“Oh, oh my - Mr. Stark, f-feels so good,” Peter stammered.

“You better not come all over this suit, kid,” Tony warned as Peter rocked his hips with growing impatience and desperation.

“Please, sir,” Peter whimpered. He was close, so close --

Tony’s hand left Peter’s tangled curls, though it was worth it to feel the rough skin of his palm rub against the back of the teen’s hand, pressing until both their cocks were pointedly aimed at Peter’s bare chest instead of Tony’s designer shirt.

“There you go, Petey,” Tony gently encouraged. “Now you can come.”

Peter’s brows knitted together in concentration as he felt a tight heat building in his groin with every swipe of their hands. His jaw fell slack as the pressure became near-overwhelming, and suddenly his fingers grew weak as his orgasm hit.

“Fuck, kid, your face right now,” Tony moaned. “Keep going, Pete, I’m close.”

The teen tried his best just to tighten his grip once more, but instead his eyes fell shut and his head tipped back in bliss. He barely felt the warm spray of his own come all over his chest, followed by Tony’s fingers dragging through the stickiness.

He regained strength in his neck and was able to lift his head back up just in time for Tony’s orgasm. This, he felt; the hot, thick spray of Tony’s come all over his stomach and chest and throat. Much to his own surprise, he let out a gratified moan as a few drops landed in his mouth. Loudly smacking his lips, he swallowed down the vaguely salty taste.

And suddenly Tony’s hands were in his hair, pulling his forward into a sloppy, heated kiss. “Mmf!” Peter squeaked, so taken by surprise. It seemed Tony was as well, uncaring as he inadvertently rubbed Peter’s come-slick chest all over his shirt.

“Jesus, Pete, I love you so much,” Tony murmured between clumsy swipes of their tongues.

From the look on the man’s face as Peter jerked away, he was just as surprised. “You… what?” Tony cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Peter shook his head. “It’s okay, Mr. Stark. Heat of the moment.”

“Yeah,” Tony drawled, scratching at his goatee as he glanced away.

Chewing his lip, Peter looked down at their rapidly softening cocks. He missed the slight shake of the man’s head as Tony’s expression tightened into a determined frown. “You know what,  _ no _ _. _ It was heat of the moment, sure.”

He tried to ignore the fingers drawing in his chin, but Peter was forced to turn his gaze to Tony’s dark eyes. The man’s thumb brushed along his bottom lip, the edge of his nail scraping against Peter’s front teeth. “I love you, Peter. And I mean that.”

Peter smiled, giving Tony’s thumb a gentle nip. “I love you, too…  _ Tony _ _.” _

**Author's Note:**

> [Visit me on tumblr for more of my Starker ficlets, to submit requests, and geek out with me over these dorks.](http://airebellah.tumblr.com)


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